As Luck Would Have It
by meshalok
Summary: It seemed like a great idea at the time, and it did help reveal Voldemort's dark secret, but was drinking the Felix Felicis potion really worth it in the long run?


**Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am not making any money off of this story or any other story I post on this site.**

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**As Luck Would Have It**

It was indescribable, this feeling today. Glorious, but so much more. He almost didn't know what to do with himself; he was so dazzled by every contour of imagination and reality, fact and fiction. Epiphany is what they call it, but even those light, fluttering, untouchable syllables are unable to represent the truth of the matter.

Today he was a god.

"How do you feel, Harry?" He smiled then, a wonderful smile. To him it seemed like he was smiling for the first time, and all those other pathetic upturning of lips were meaningless and dreary.

"Brilliant," he said, "let's go," They had to go to Hagrid's; he could feel it, the undeniable feeling of rightness in this action, the undeniable rightness of everything he was doing. Ron and Hermione gaped at him, not quite sure how to deal with a friend who has recently reached the pinnacle point of realization. He smirked inwardly, of course they weren't sure. When he was like them, nothing made sense, but now, _everything_ _does._

"…Where, Harry?" It was Hermione's cautious question that made Harry split into a small fit of laughter, it was just too obvious.

"To Hagrid's!" And he smiled that wonderful smile and sped off in the direction of that joyous hut he held so dearly in his memories, Hermione and Ron lagging behind him.

* * *

It wasn't easy sleeping that night. All he could think about was the feeling he had for that precious hour while under the influence of the potion. It was… indescribable, so wondrous and fantastic; everything he was experiencing now paled in comparison, a candle to the great and glorious sun. He didn't know if he could live this way anymore, not _know _what he should do, not _understand _anything.

It may have been silly to try, but he did it anyway, in an act of desperation he tried to regain that feeling by himself. He tried to concentrate, reach for it and bring it back. But it was a hopeless attempt, and he had known that before he had even tried. He began to cry, clutching at the sheets and pushing his wet and blotchy face into the pillow.

He could not live this way, this pathetic, dry, foggy, _obscure_ way of living. If he continued on like this he would surely shrivel away with all the uncertainty and paranoia. He _needed _more.

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"Harry? What are you doing here?" It was Professor Slughorn. His breath caught in his throat, every nerve in his body stood ready for action as adrenaline swept through his bloodstream. He gulped in an unconscious attempt to achieve a confident and believable front.

"Professor," he began, thinking as quickly as he could, "I'm sorry, I really should have asked, but I just needed a few potion ingredients. I-I'm trying some of the potions further ahead in the book, I hope you don't mind." Professor Slughorn blinked a couple of times before a toothy smile spread across his face.

"Of course it is okay Harry, my boy. You know, your mother would do the exact same thing when she was in school, always sneaking in and grabbing a few things for whatever project she was working on." The professor's eyes took on a nostalgic glaze, "I caught her eventually, in a situation much like this one. No need to worry though Harry, I gave her permission to use the storage room as often as she liked, so it only seems natural that I would say the same to you. Goodbye, Harry, and good luck." He turned around and walked out of the room.

Harry stood there for a while, nerves still on the fritz. He was shocked, but not really surprised that Slughorn let him off so easily. Slowly, he released a breath he had been holding.

_Calm down, Harry._

That was it, an order from his body, instructing him on how to step down from his adrenaline high. It was designed to do this, it was a safe process that has been continuously checked up on and revised throughout man's journey of evolution. How he wished desperately other things would have instructions, but right now, this was all he could do.

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"You have to eat, Harry." He clasped and unclasped his hands under the table, they had started shaking a couple days ago, and since then he hadn't been able to get them to stop. Hermione's brow furrowed and she reached across to touch her friend's shoulder. He flinched away and she drew it back, "You can't go on like this, you're ruining yourself."

He flinched again and squeezed his eyes shut. She was wrong; he could go on like this. He _had _to. This was who he was now; this was what _Felix __Felicis_had made him. He couldn't change that. He didn't have that power anymore.


End file.
